| POLLINATION OF BEAUTY As I reached to pick a bloom, A thorn it pricked as if in scorn; For I had threatened its short life By attempting to my home adorn. So oft we reach for things of beauty And thus to claim them for our own. But when we do, their spirit ravish, Find they perish when no seeds are sown. Some gardens meant to view as wild And their beauty multiply. But when we reach to cut their limbs, We sadly kiss their life goodbye. Pinks and reds, yellows and blues, Sprinkled like paint upon the meadow God's canvas of beauty for us to view And thus spread their joy when allowed to grow. Author: Gloria Sarasin |
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| Favourite Links: Rye's Corner Shirley's Web Pages |
| Page created by Rye - Feb. 2004 |
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